


we've only just begun (chasing the sun)

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Couple, Fluff, M/M, more random world-building for this verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 13:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4062481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You betas, always thinking you're the lucky ones." </p><p>"Rudeee." Andre sings under his breath at Roman's comment. Marco had already filled them in on the situation with the older goalie but it hadn't changed their attitude on the national team.</p><p>a companion piece to "the sun will rise with your name".</p>
            </blockquote>





	we've only just begun (chasing the sun)

“You stink.” Mario wrinkles his nose and waves a hand around like it’ll magically dissipate the scent of alpha.

“How was your day, Marco? Oh, nothing new, Matze Ginter went into heat and Erik fought off Roman and Kloppo yelled as usual. Training got out early though, so I guess that’s a plus.” Marco snarked and did a frankly terrible impression of Mario. 

“Would it have killed you to take a shower before coming home, you stink of baby alpha. It’s bad enough our neighbors are completely crazy sex addicts.” Marco rolls his eyes and takes a sniff at himself. It wasn’t overwhelming, but Mario was right on their neighbors and they would use any excuse to get freaky into the long hours of the night. 

“Actually I think it’s mostly Roman, not _baby alpha_. Ilkay and I had to haul him out of there and it was not pretty, plus Neven had his panties in a twist because of alpha posturing or some shit.” Marco shrugs a shoulder, It was stupid and completely suicidal to go after a mated omega even in the event of a heat-craze. Needless to say, the goalie and center back would be an oncoming problem coming back from the short break they had. 

“Gross, wasn’t there some beta he was courting?” Marco went into the kitchen for some water. 

“Neven?” He asks, because who knew where Mario got his gossip. Okay, Marco knew Leo and Moritz were the source but Neven was definitely not interested in any betas, Mats would probably do something stupid and Klopp would yell at Marco for it. Vice-captaincy garnered so much more yelling.

“No, stupid, Weidenfeller. Why would Neven be courting a beta. Mats would probably go cry in a dark room and then everyone and their mom would get into that mess.” Marco chugged down some water which Mario looked at with some interest. Huh, maybe he should’ve showered. He was starting to get a headache from the alpha scent. 

“You do have a point. Anyway, can you put my clothes in the wash while I shower? And I mean straight to the machine, Sunny, last time was fun, but I need sleep.” Last time had consisted of them getting loopy off alpha arousal and generally feeling like murder the next morning. It was worse than a hangover. 

“Not my fault your team has a bunch of baby alphas roaming around on the prowl.” Mario shouts out as a parting. He started the shower. Mario came in with a towel for Marco while kicking at the pile of clothes on the floor.

“We don’t have a bunch of alphas running around.” Marco counters, sudsing up with the neutralizing soap.

“You do too. You have more than Bayern.” Mario stands at the mirror, checking his hair. Marco snorts and almost inhales water. His boyfriend chortles from the other side of the shower door.

“We don’t. What the hell do you call Ribery and Robben and every other alpha on your team. Last time I checked, Bayern had more of an average of alphas than any other Bundesliga side, out of most European teams also, probably.” Marco did not think of Bayern as the enemy, but he had read the statistics, and well, it did rankle a little to know they had a ‘stronger’ team bolstered by the pack of Alphas up front. It wasn’t illegal in the sports world, because there wasn’t any proven correlation than alphas were superior in any given matter, but stereotypes persisted. 

“I meant all the younger guys on your team, the baby alphas. The unattached still looking for love ones. The old guard at Bayern is pretty much taken.” Mario persists with the nickname and one of these days Marco is going to slip up and actually call someone a baby alpha and get into trouble for it. 

“Don’t sound too upset.” Marco jokes, turning off the shower.

“Don’t sound too jealous, Reus, oh no, I’ve suddenly realized my true love lies in David. I’ll have to leave all my things here, is that okay?” Mario turns it around on him and simpers. Marco wraps the towel around his waist after a vigorous rubdown. 

“Uh, no, take your shitty Beats Pill and get out of here. Just kidding, I’d fight Alaba.” Mario looks over fondly, smiling wide enough to make his cheeks rounder.

“Don’t you dare, he’s still injured and Franck would come for a reckoning, then Kloppo would yell at me for a change.” He’s startled into laughter at that because BVB players old and new would always fear the wrath of Jurgen Klopp. The clothes lay between them. Mario picks up the pile, one by one with his index finger and thumb, bundling it in another towel sacrificed for the cause.

“I tried something new for dinner. It has eggplant in it.” Marco tries to hide his apprehensive face with the towel running through his hair. It’s semi-successful as Mario turned around in the nick of time. 

"Don't make that face, it's good, doesn't even taste like eggplant anymore." Mario doesn't look behind him but he knows Marco well enough by now to know he's making that face that said he was an eight year old facing down a new vegetable. 

"Okay mom." He draws out the o sound. 

"I _will_ tell your mom, how you can't do your own laundry and you won't eat your dinner and are getting into fights with alphas." Mario makes a list, ticking it off with his fingers. Marco follows him out of the bathroom.

"It's all in the name of love, a man has to do what he has to do." Mario shoves him in the direction of their bedroom and goes to deposit the bundle in the washer. 

"Get dressed, lover boy." 

\--

For the match, their captain was appropriately disgusting with his partner. Andre told him to not cast stones because he had full files of evidence against the two of them being as disgustingly schmoopy. 

"You betas, always thinking you're the lucky ones." Roman was in a downright snit, smelling like sour milk and with an equally sour face. It could also be that Ron-Robert was taking Manu's spot in his absence and who knew how much time the older goalkeeper had left in call-ups.

"Rudeee," Andre sang under his breath. Marco didn't comment, having already filled him in about the tension at Dortmund between the older goalie and their younger defender. 

Erik had been placed in a room far away enough from Roman to not cause trouble and had Sami as a roommate just in case there needed to be a mediator. 

"I bet you a lap around the hotel, Mats is checking on Subotic." Andre nudges him to look over at the curly-haired omega. He looked at Marco who subtly told him it was an easy bet and Mats was definitely not on the phone with Neven.

"You're on. Hey, Mats!" He calls out to grab half the room's attention. "Who are you on the phone with?" Mats looks annoyed but doesn’t question why Mario would want to know. It was just easier to go along with it then let the three Musketeers do it their own way.

"Manu, to see how Benni is holding up." Marco points at Andre with a long 'aha' to taunt. Andre pouts. 

"Okay, okay, I should've went with the other love of his life, Benni. Whatever you win this time nerds. I know you cheated somehow Götze!" He looks suspiciously to the blonde next to him. Marco covers his eyes like in his monkey emoji celebration. 

Mario sticks out his tongue. "You're just a sore loser, Schu." Marco high-fives him. 

"If I get kidnapped by a fan and never see my beloved Montana again, it's gonna be your fault." Andre perpetually had to have the last word in an argument. Mario pffts at the gangly over-dramatic winger. They all snap their heads around when Jerome comes through the cluster of people.

“Jesus CHRIST, Boa, you couldn’t wait until after the game?” Mario cries out, lifting the neck of his shirt to cover his nose. He had always had a sensitive nose but by the reaction of the others in the room, he knew it wasn’t just him. Marco looked dazed and Andre had red at the tops of his cheeks. Mats was roaring with laughter, slapping his knee and wheezing. 

Jerome didn’t even look sorry for causing a commotion. Poldi cranked up the ventilators to get some fresh air pumped into the room and clear out the smorgasbord of pheromones and alpha around the tall defender. Basti had some quiet words with Jerome and led him back to the showers like he didn’t know his way around the Allianz or to make sure he actually took the shower before getting on the field.

“That better not be Poland’s strategy to get one over on us.” Mats slaps the goalie’s chest hard.

“Dude, what is up with you. That’s not funny or appropriate.” Mats and Marco get up to deal with the Dortmund keeper before he puts his foot in his mouth in front of someone who wouldn’t just use their words to disagree or could take serious action against the older man.

“Duty calls. Be right back.” Marco kisses his cheek and follows the Dortmund captain dragging Roman.

“He needs to get his head on right,” Andre shakes his head after they’ve left the room. 

The game is as expectedly difficult as getting through to a stubborn alpha. Robert is offsides more times than Mario wants to count by the second half. Szczesny is saving every shot Marco directs until Andre skips around three red shirts with some impressive footwork to cross it to Mario, who instinctively shoots and prays. The crowd goes wild and he’s smiling into Andre’s jersey before he feels Marco join the hug.

They disengage, not before Marco keeps his hand on his shoulder for a moment too long. He looks over and grins with exhilaration and a storm of emotions brewing in his heart. 

Mesut manages to score in the last seconds of the match and almost looks apologetic for scoring on his friend until Lukas shakes him in celebration. Jerome and Sami lift him up in turns and the rest of team crowds around the spectacle. Marco is talking to Robert off to the side and Mario exchanges his shirt with the tall Polish keeper who shakes his hand and genuinely means it. 

“Not every day you get to scored on by the World Cup winner. Schurrle’s a real asset.” Wojciech jokes. Mario suddenly gets the brilliant flash of an idea. Andre and Wojciech would be mayhem from the stories Lukas and Robert have told him and would keep Andre busy with mischief not directed at him or Marco. 

“Andre, come over here.” He shouts after his friend who is giving Christoph a noogie. 

Really, he’s doing it for the benefit of the team. Andre couldn’t torment anybody if he was too busy plotting. He introduced the two troublemakers officially and snuck away to get some privacy with Marco.

“Lewy seems really happy at Bayern.” Marco says distractedly.

“Marco, you really want to talk about this when we just won a game?” He whines a little, stopping his hand’s descent just barely. They had found a secluded spot to get handsy, but Marco had suddenly gotten on a train of thought Mario didn’t want to get on board with. 

“No, I’m just--are _you_ happy?” He’s so unsure, looking down at Mario, taking him in like they wouldn’t see each other again.

“I’m with you. That makes me happy, Marco. Playing together is always amazing, but this is more important.” He touches the fresh mark hidden partially by Marco’s collar. It doesn’t stick, not a true mating bite but Mario would be damned if that invalidated their feelings. It had been four years since they started their rollercoaster of a relationship and they hadn’t stopped trying. 

“It wouldn’t make a difference wherever we’ll be and however we typed. It’s always going to be me and you.” His eyes flashed with a tawny champagne color to underscore the words Mario knew to be true. They seldomly ever talked about it. Their friends had all fallen into a range of relationships as the two betas stuck to each other and they had never complained about it, seeing the upside more than the downside, but Mario could read between the lines of Marco’s comments.

“We could get married.” He spouts off the first thought that comes to mind. Marco looks at him like he’s hit his head one too many times. 

“Very funny, Herr Goetze. Pull the other leg,” Mario tries not to smile but can’t help it. 

“I’m serious. I’m not getting a tattoo like you, but it’s the easiest way to prove we’re fully committed to each other without the mating mark. Rings would be nice.” He waits for Marco to brush it off with another quip or act like he’s being irrational. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to go through with it. 

“Fine,” Marco says it with such a huffy tone, Mario thinks he heard wrong.

“What?” He crosses his arms and opens his mouth with a typical scowl.

“I said, I’ll marry you, dunce. Get your ears checked.” Mario pushes into him with bright eyes and a brighter smile, crowding him against the wall behind them. Marco almost pulls something trying to keep his scowl on, irate at the terrible proposal, but he had to admit it suited them to end up agreeing to marriage in the middle of a not-fight. 

“Do you want a spring or summer wedding?” Mario murmurs before kissing him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is me taking a break/procrastinating from my huge writing projects(including the Dream Soulmates AU oops) I also realized I've never written a gotzeus proposal and obviously had to remedy that. 
> 
> This universe is I guess, more interesting to play around with than I previously thought. A beta!couple Marco/Mario didn't leave my brain until I at least attempted it.


End file.
